Flickering Candlelight and Stars as Witness (Part 2)

Lynn stepped forward calmly. Most of the hall's attention was still caught up in the lingering excitement over the "Star of the Chosen" belonging to Gryffindor, but quite a few people were also curiously sizing up this composed new student with obvious Eastern heritage. On the staff table especially, Dumbledore's blue eyes peered through his half-moon spectacles with gentle inquiry; Professor Snape (greasy black hair, hooked nose, cold expression) merely gave a chilly glance before lowering his eyelids again; Professor McGonagall's gaze held a faint, barely perceptible hint of expectation.

Lynn sat down on the stool. The Sorting Hat was placed over his short black hair, its brim shading his deep eyes.

In an instant, a vast, immense consciousness—carrying the breath of icy starlight and the weight of ancient ages—flooded into the Sorting Hat's old, well-traveled "mind" like a bursting dam!

"Merlin's Beard!" The hat let out an extremely shocked, even trembling, silent scream in Lynn's mind the moment they made contact! Its "consciousness" felt as if it had been cast into the boundless sea of stars in the universe!

What did it see? Not specific memory images, but an essence! A power as deep as the origin of the cosmos slumbered in the depths of Lynn's soul—cold, mighty, eternal! The mark of the Star Stone was as clear as a brand! Even more shocking was that at the core of this icy power coiled a warm, tenacious will, like moonlight guarding something! That will was of the same origin as the aura of Hermione Granger, who had just been sorted into Gryffindor! Was it a vow of protection? Or a bond of souls?

The hat frantically "read" Lynn's traits: composure far beyond his years, logic and insight bordering on terrifying, unfathomable magical talent, a deep understanding of the nature of power (stemming from the Starry Notebook and his past-life knowledge), and... that pure, unwavering will to protect, hidden beneath the cold starlight, ignited by a certain brown-haired girl!

"Ravenclaw! Without a doubt! The knowledge and wisdom in this brain of yours could light the Diadem of Ravenclaw!" The hat whispered excitedly in Lynn's mind.

"Slytherin! Oh, what powerful potential! That calmness, that sense of control over power! Slytherin could give you the sharpest authority!" The hat also caught the restrained mastery deep in his soul.

"Gryffindor? This courage to protect... blazing hot like the core of a furnace! The resolve to face anything for the sake of protection..." The hat was deeply shaken by the crystal-clear will to protect, born from Hermione, in the depths of Lynn's consciousness.

The hat fell into unprecedented hesitation and shock. It had never encountered a soul so complex yet so pure! Cold and warmth, wisdom and courage, power and protection—they formed a strange, nearly perfect balance within him. The traits of all four houses shone brightly in his being!

Time ticked by. Murmurs of discussion began to ripple through the hall. Harry, Ron, and Hermione all watched Lynn nervously. Hermione's hands were clenched so tightly her knuckles were white; the Moon White Stone under her robe sent waves of faint warmth, and she silently screamed in her heart: Gryffindor! Gryffindor!

"So hard to choose... too hard to choose..." The hat muttered troubledly in Lynn's mind. "Your belonging... seems to transcend the boundaries of the houses."

"Then," Lynn's calm voice responded in his consciousness, "let me choose. How about that?"

The hat was silent for a moment, as if digesting the proposal. "...Where do you want to go, young man?"

Lynn's gaze, past the brim's cover, precisely aimed at the Gryffindor table, landing on the girl nervously watching him, her brown curls dancing in the candlelight. The Star Stone sent a clear, directional warmth.

"My courage is born from protection," Lynn answered clearly in his heart. "My home is where she is."

The Sorting Hat seemed to let out a long (silent) sigh of relief, as if it had finally found the key to the answer. That courage born from protection, that sense of belonging with a clear direction, shattered all its hesitation.

"Ah... I see!" The hat's voice carried a note of relieved wonder and strange approval. "Then, as you wish! Remember your choice!"

The hat took a deep breath (in a spiritual sense), and its loud voice rang through the hall:

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The Gryffindor table erupted in cheers once more! Hermione nearly jumped up, clapping excitedly, her face blooming with a smile brighter than the candle flames, her eyes shining with pure joy and a hint of watery light. Harry and Ron shouted in excitement too.

Lynn calmly removed the hat, placed it back on the stool, and gave Professor McGonagall a slight nod. He turned and walked toward the Gryffindor table, his steps steady. Countless eyes fell on him—curious, probing, amazed. He walked straight to Hermione and sat down in the seat she had deliberately saved for him.

"I knew it! I knew you'd come to Gryffindor!" Hermione's voice was trembling with barely contained excitement, her face flushed.

Lynn turned his head to look at her sparkling eyes, and the corner of his mouth lifted into a faint but genuine smile. "I told you, Hogwarts is my home." His gaze fell on the Moon White Stone pendant at her chest, which still seemed to hold the lingering warmth of their earlier resonance. "And where you are, that's Gryffindor."

Hermione's cheeks instantly flushed crimson, like a ripe apple, but this time she didn't look away. Her bright eyes were filled with starlit laughter and a hint of shy sweetness. The Moon White Stone at her chest clearly echoed the warm current of the Star Stone.

Headmaster Dumbledore stood up and announced the feast. With a light clap of his hands, the once-empty golden plates instantly piled high with food: golden roasted beef, mountains of mashed potatoes, glossy roast chicken, steaming meat pies, and countless shimmering puddings and ice creams!

The hall was instantly filled with the aroma of food and the sound of laughter and chatter. Lynn picked up a Yorkshire pudding, his gaze casually sweeping over the staff table. Professor Snape's cold eyes were shifting away from him toward Draco Malfoy at the Slytherin table. Dumbledore's gaze lingered warmly on Lynn for a moment, a glint of all-knowing understanding and an elusive hint of interest deep in his blue eyes.

The sorting was settled, with the stars as witness. Beneath the red-and-gold banner, their magical journey officially set sail amid the flickering candlelight and the aroma of the feast. Lynn could feel the joy of the girl beside him, like a warm stream, silently merging into the vast, starry sea of his life.